


the virtues of meddling

by v3ilfire



Series: i fought the war, but the war won [10]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Gen, all about family this one, sort of, things that got away from me tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-08
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 02:16:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6496849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/v3ilfire/pseuds/v3ilfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Damn. Gamlen didn’t know how she managed, but in all her meddling the damn kid managed to give him a family. Gave herself one, too, making up for all she’d lost with all her strays. Damn annoying girl. Damn how proud he was of her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> fill for a "spring cleaning" prompt, got away from me and is now somehow also about gamlen and charade

Gamlen looked properly put out by his niece’s _second_  intrusion into his life. First with the blasted gem, and now again with her whole house staff in tow. Leave it to Leandra’s eldest to drag some mute elf and two dwarves into his house.    
“Oh, quit pouting, Uncle. You have a daughter to impress now.”   
“I can handle my daughter just fine without your ‘help,’ you know.” Hesta snorted. If Leandra had told him that her eldest was such an insufferable meddler, he would have thought twice about helping them enter the city.   
“How’s this: if we find any buried treasure under the dust, you can have it.” 

Insufferable was a _compliment_. 

He tried to placate his irritation with the fact that, at the very least, her house staff were doing their jobs right. The dwarves were busy moving what little furniture he had to one side of the room, chattering busily the entire time, and the elf had already started sweeping. It took about fifteen seconds of watching this for Hesta to get bored of standing still and join in disassembling his house. Gamlen, having given up on any peace and quiet he might have hoped for that day, decided to go outside instead. As soon as he sat down on the stairs, the elf began to sing. 

It was about an hour and a half later that he heard Hesta’s boots behind him again. She bent down to offer him a mug - tea, though clearly one of her people had brought it with them. He hadn’t smelled anything like that in over twenty years. He grumbled a thanks as he accepted it, which she evidently took as an invitation to sit down next to him.   
“Are they almost _done_?” he groused.   
“Have you _seen_  your house, Uncle?” He had. And he had been _fine_ with it.   
“What, do they get bored cleaning the estate?”   
“Honestly, at this point it’s more their home than mine.” She had meant it as a joke, but Gamlen’s throat tightened a little, anyway. He took a sip of the tea, not knowing why he thought that would fill the silence. 

Luckily, at that moment the door opened and the elf girl walked out, a basket slung over her forearm. Gamlen forgot he even _had_  a basket.   
“Mist-- Hawke,” she said, clearly uncomfortable with using Hesta’s name to address her. “Bodhan says the house will take a lot of work. May I go to the market to get food for dinner?”  
“Of course,” Hesta said. “Will you be alright by yourself?” The girl nodded. “Alright then. Thank you.”  
“It is no trouble, Mi -- _Hawke_.” Hesta smiled, and the elf bowed her head before taking a hasty exit back towards Hightown. 

“You and your damn strays,” Gamlen said. “You’re just like Leandra. Damn bleeding heart.” Hesta laughed. _That_  sound was not his sister’s at all, too raw and unapologetic. A laugh like that would have earned a _look_  from his mother.   
“Oh, I don’t know. Abandoning a life of luxury to elope with an apostate is a level of rebelliousness I still aspire to.”   
“You’re close enough with that weird elf,” he muttered. “The scowling, tattooed one.”   
“The scowling grows on you,” she said. An understatement, judging by the way her eyes suddenly lit up at just the mention of that man’s existence.   
“I thought the rumors were bad when people found our your father was an apostate. You should hear some of the shit people say about the Champion with some escaped elven slave from Tevinter.” There was that laugh again. Must be Malcolm’s.   
“Make sure you pass those on to Varric. He might even pay you.”   
“I’m sure he’s already heard them,” he grumbled into his tea. When he lowered the mug again, Hesta’s expression had softened considerably, gaze unfocused. He knew that look well; Leandra wore it constantly in the weeks before she left.   
“He’s a good man, Uncle,” she said finally. 

There was something on the tip of his tongue, but just before he could say it, there was a loud cry of, “Enchantment!” from inside the house. Hesta near dropped her mug and scampered to her feet, laughing and yelling, “No! No enchantment!” as she scampered inside. Gamlen didn’t dare follow. 

The sea breeze came with the tide within the hour, however, and chilled the man enough to warrant going back indoors. He was surprised to find that the house smelled ... well, it _didn’t_  smell, which was a surprise. There was just smoke from the chimney and what must have been some sort of wood oil that the young dwarf was using to polish his table. The house looked ... clean. Bigger, almost, without all the dust and random junk lying around. 

The older dwarf - Bodhan - sat him down at the table and heated his tea for him, talking excitedly about how happy he was that Charade found them. When there was a knock at the door, Gamlen made to get up, but Hesta darted out of the side room and beat him to it. It was the elf girl, clutching her basket full of food, but this time she had a scowling, broody shadow. Just the _look_  of that white-haired elf made Gamlen nervous.   
“Maste -- Fen -- _Serah_ found me on my way back here, and asked if he could accompany me to make sure I was safe,” she explained. Somehow, the girl always managed to sound like she was apologizing.   
“Well, I suppose I should thank you for the safe delivery of my dinner,” Hesta said as she moved aside to let the girl through.  
“It was no problem.” Gamlen saw a flash of red on the man’s wrist as he shifted his weight. Suddenly, all he could think about was how _nervous_  he had been giving Mara a scarf that same color; how delighted he’d been when she wore it. He lost himself in his thoughts so quickly, he almost missed his niece kissing the scowling elf goodbye. Well. He’d stopped scowling at that point.

“Where’s he in a rush to?” he said. Clearly, both Hesta and that elf - Maker, what was his _name?_ \- were surprised that he even said anything, judging by how quickly they turned to face him.   
“Back to Hightown,” she said. “You know, where he lives.”   
“Doesn’t he want to stay for dinner? He helped bring the damn food here, might as well help eat it.” 

The house began to bustle as preparations for dinner were made. Hesta and her -  _Fenris_ , his name was, apparently - were busy helping the dwarves move the last of the furniture back into the proper place, all smiles and flashes of easy affection. The elf girl was humming, cooking something that smelled better than anything he’d eaten in the last three years.

Damn. Gamlen didn’t know _how_  she managed, but in all her meddling the damn kid managed to give him a family. Gave herself one, too, making up for all she’d lost with all her strays. Damn annoying girl. Damn how proud he was of her. He didn’t deserve her _or_ Charade, whip-smart as his daughter was. Maybe she’d worry a little less about him, now that his house was clean.

Ah, damned old man knew he didn’t deserve _any_  of it, but if the elf with a giant sword who ripped peoples’ hearts out could make a good man of himself in the eyes of his niece, maybe the one who gambled his whole life away could be a good one in the eyes of his daughter. He wasn’t dead yet, after all. 

And he had that damn meddler to thank for all of it. 


	2. bonus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i got prompted for a POV switch and i liked what i made so. bonus!

****Hesta had ducked into the room she, her mother, and Bethany used to share the moment Sandal’s itch for enchantment passed. It felt strange being in there without all the dust and the cobwebs she used to climb into on her way to the top bunk (Bethany took over that bed once the sisters realized that one came home marginally later than the other on a regular basis). At least Charade would have a decent place to lay her head now, if she chose.

There was a knock at the door before she could fully lose herself to a bizarre mix of speculation and nostalgia, and she raced for it before Gamlen could even fully lift his ass from the chair. Maker only knew he was always half a step away from bringing up the “elven slave thing” with Orana, and that was the last thing the poor girl needed. 

When she opened the door, Hesta was surprised to find that Orana had not returned alone.   
“Maste – Fen – _Serah_ found me on my way back here, and asked if he could accompany me to make sure I was safe,” she said. Hesta resisted sighing - four years and she _still_ made every sentence sound like an apology. She’d hug the girl if she wasn’t afraid she’d break her with any sign of friendly affection.   
“Well, I suppose I should thank you for the safe delivery of my dinner,” she said, moving to the side to let Orana pass. Fenris smiled at her, but did not move from his spot by the door.   
“Your mission to clean your uncle’s home is going well, then?”   
“About as well as you’d think. You’re next,” she joked, poking at his arm with her finger. “We’ll start with the wine cellar.”   
“Drinking our way through what’s left is hardly productive, Hawke.”   
“And yet you don’t sound the _least_  bit unenthused by the idea.” He laughed, at that. Six years, and her heart still did that weird jumpy thing every time he so much as giggled at something she’d said. 

“Your uncle is staring at me,” he said. “I believe that means it’s time for me to return home. Should I expect you later?”   
“Never expect me. My entrances are ruined without the proper balance of drama and surprise.” Another laugh, another fifteen seconds to regain the feeling in her knees.   
“Goodbye, Hawke,” he said. Having forgotten how words work, all she could manage was to lean in and peck him on the cheek. The door was mostly closed in front of her when Gamlen’s slack-jawed shock finally dissolved. 

“Where’s he in a rush to?” Hesta blinked, easing the door open again just a sliver.   
“Back to Hightown. You know, where he lives?”   
“Doesn’t he want to stay for dinner? He helped bring the damn food here, might as well help eat it.” Well. He had a point. 

Hesta leaned out past the door, where Fenris had stopped to wait. They stared at each other a moment before she nodded her head towards the inside of the now-clean house.  
“See? Drama and surprise,” she whispered to him as he walked past her and into the threshold. She closed the creaky door behind him, triumphant in making him laugh a third time. 

Maker. What she wouldn’t give to live the rest of her life with that feeling.


End file.
